


Broken

by HetaBabe



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-02-18 23:18:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2365685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HetaBabe/pseuds/HetaBabe





	1. Broken and Alone

It was dark. It was always dark...  
He had to fight it. He had to fight back the darkness. Because...  
Why did he fight it? Because he was the hero?  
...  
No...  
He wasn't the hero...  
Not anymore...  
So why did he fight it? Why didn't he just sink into it? Let it take over.  
It would be so much easier... So much easier...  
If he could just die...

England growled as he placed the bent paper clip in his pocket and opened the door. As usual, the house inside was messy. However, it was different from the usual. Instead of just wrappers and empty food boxes, there was un-eaten food slowly rotting. England blanched at the horrible smell and decided not to go into the kitchen.

This was not at all like his former charge. Sure, America was a slob, but not to this degree. The fact that his living quarters had reached this state of neglect only increased England's worries. The young nation hadn't been to a meeting for a year and a half now, so England had volunteered himself to go check on him. He did his best to tidy the room, not able to do much without a garbage can.

"America! Are you here?"England called into the house, receiving silence as a reply.

The English nation frowned and moved deeper into the house, shivering as the temperature seemed to drop. This was something else that was unusual. Thanks to the influence of the person living inside the house, the place always seemed to be bursting with energy and life. Now, the windows were dirty or had the blinds pulled down and the only light that was on, the hallway light, slowly flickered then died as England walked toward America's room.

England opened the door then jumped back putting a hand over his mouth and nose. The room inside was completely dark and stank of bodily waste and death. England took a deep breath through his mouth, then stepped into the room, much more used to the smell than even most nations were. He searched the wall for a light switch then growled as he flicked it with no results. Apparently the light in this room had long since burned out.

England pulled his shirt up and over his mouth and moved across the room, subconsciously staying away from the bed, and over to the other side. He trailed his free hand across the wall and sighed in relief when he found the string for the blinds and light flooded the room. However, the sigh quickly turned into a strangled gasp of disbelief. Laying on the bed, breathing softly, was America in the worst state the older nation had ever seen him in. He hadn't even looked that bad during his civil war or 9/11.

His normally soft, dark blonde hair was dark and matted with filth, his glasses were covered in a thick layer of dust, his clothes were horrendously dirty, his face was drawn with exhaustion even though he was unconscious and England could tell that he had lost weight from where he was standing. The old nation stepped forward, but gagged when he realized the stench was coming from the nation on the bed. England looked over and, by the stains on the bed, guessed the blue eyed boy had been laying in that same spot for quite some time. Taking another deep breath through his mouth, England stepped forward and stood silently at the side of the bed. With a grimace of disgust, England forced himself to grasp America's shoulder and shook him harshly.

"America. Wake up."England demanded.

After a second heavy eyelids slowly fluttered open revealing yet another depressing sight. The American's usually lively, bright, sky blue eyes were dull and lifeless showing no expression as he looked at the ceiling. Slowly the younger nation turned his eyes from the ceiling to the nation beside him. A brief flicker of emotion passed through the blue depths but was gone before England could catch it. America's lips moved, but no sound came out, so England bent down closer despite the smell.

"What was that?"He asked.

"-O... Away..."America said in a raspy, unused voice.

"What- Of course I'm not going to leave you like this, git! Have all those hamburgers finally destroyed your brain?"England straightened up and put his hands on his hips, glaring despite the worry in his eyes.

America just looked back at the ceiling and made another emotionless demand."Leave me... alone."

"I'm bloody well not going to leave you alone. Look at the state your in! You need a bath!"England now let his worry show, to surprised to hide it.

That surprise grew when the nation on the bed started softly crying, so much pain showing in his eyes that England's heart constricted painfully and tears pricked at his own acid green eyes.

"J-just go away... L-leave me alone... I j-just want to g-go already... I don't w-want to be here anymore."America's voice grew louder as he spoke and England stepped back from the bed."Why won't they just let me go? I hate this! I hate being a nation! I hate America! Nobody needs me! Nobody wants me! I just want to die, so why won't they let me go!"

England stared with wide eyes as the tears quickly stopped and dried leaving tracks through the grime on his face and the pain left his eyes blank once again. England took a deep shuddering breath, understanding immediately. America had given up. England had done the same thing after the revolution, but his pride as a nation had made him pick himself up after only a month. He wasn't sure, but England guessed America had been here since at least the last meeting he'd gone to.

Which meant he'd been lying in that bed for nearly a year and a half. England grimaced in disgust again and stepped towards the motionless nation.

"Get up."England demanded the same way he'd told him to wake up.

When America didn't respond, he grabbed him and forced him onto his feet, surprised at how light he was. England held his breath, the stench worse than ever, and led America to the bathroom. England sat the despondent nation on the toilet and turned on the tub, making sure the water was hot enough before blocking the drain. As the water rises he began undressing the American, not even bothering to waste his breath ordering him to strip. When he finished, he helped him back up and sat him in the water.

England stopped the water and left America in the bath, hurrying down the stairs. He pulled his shirt over his nose again and braved the kitchen to find food. Even though he had barely looked, America's body showed just how bad his health was. He had lost so much weight it seemed every bone in his body jutted out against his skin. England shuddered then looked over the kitchen in horror.

Scattered across the floor were broken dishes and globs of rotting food. The table was tipped over and only two of the chairs were still upright. Any dishes that weren't on the floor were in the sink and on the counter, covered in rotten food. England didn't expect there to be any good food, but he looked through the fridge and cupboards anyways. To his surprise there was a good can of soup along with a few clean pans, bowls and spoons. 

After he put the soup in a pot and set it on the stove and turned up the heat. England reached the bathroom and his eyes widened in horror when he saw America had let himself slip under the water. The older nation ran forward and pulled the younger out. When he didn't breath for a few minutes, England panicked and smacked him across the face. To his relief and surprise America gasped and coughed, coming back to life. 

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you?! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"England asked, glaring at him.

America surprised him once again by bursting into loud sobs, tears streaming down his face. England sighed and began cleaning him. He had to empty out the tub five times before America was clean, but finally England nodded with satisfaction and emptied the water before leaving the room to find the American clean clothes. He came back and dried the nation off with a towel before dressing him in a white tee shirt and old blue jeans. America was still crying, but his sobs had quieted to small cries that nearly broke England's heart.

England took America's arm and led him downstairs to the kitchen. He sat him down in a chair and went to check the soup, but was stopped by a hand on his wrist. He looked back to the crying America who wasn't looking at him, but kept a firm grip on his wrist. England sighed again and gently took the hand off his wrist before kneeling in front of America and wrapping his arms around him in a gentle hug. America breath hitched and he began to sob again, though it was quieter this time, as England gently ran his fingers through his hair.

"It's going to be okay, love. I'll take care of you."England promised in a soft voice.

Despite everything that had happened between them, England was determined to keep that promise. England didn't know how the nation before him had been so utterly broken. He was one of the strongest nations in the world and always seemed to be full of life and happiness. He was going to find out what happened to his former brother. Then, he was going to fix him.


	2. Broken, but Cared for

Afterwards, things fell quickly into routine. After England called his boss to tell him what happened he cleaned America's bed and left him there for the night. After that, he cleaned the rest of the house, which took most of the night. Despite his lack of sleep, England woke up early and went to the store to get food. When he went back to America's house, the young nation was lying exactly where he left him.  
The next few weeks consisted of England feeding, grooming and basically taking care of the American's every need. However, he soon reached a problem. The next world meeting was in London and England had no idea what to do with America. Nobody knew about his condition and, since he'd have to be there for at least a week, England couldn't leave the young nation alone. There was just one option left.  
England was going to have to bring the American with him. After thinking it over, he realized that might not be so bad. Taking care of the boy in his own house would be much easier. Especially since England had a room on the ground floor, so he wouldn't have to haul America up stairs all the time. He packed both their suitcases and took them to the door, seeing America watching him with blank eyes from the couch where England put him after breakfast.  
"Hello, love,"England said walking into the room."The meeting's in London this time, so we'll be leaving in a minute to catch our plane."  
America silently turned his gaze from England and to his hands laying still on his lap. England sighed and walked back into his room to finish their packing. When he was done he put the suitcases in the back of America's car then buckled the owner into the passenger seat. As he drove to the airport he cursed quietly about driving on the wrong side of the road, remembering when America would've laughed and teased him about being backwards. England snuck a glance at the silent nation before sullenly looking back at the road.  
They soon reached the airport and, thanks to their status as nations, were quickly lead to the plane. England was glad he didn't have to deal with taking America through the normal procedures, but the broken nation still got strange looks from people and England sent them all a fierce glare, trying to ignore the whispers. On the plane England placed America in the window seat, despite his hate of the aisle, and put their bags in the overhead compartment before sitting down. He hoped that maybe flying would get some sort of reaction, but was disappointed when the American continued to stare at the seat in front of him. He settled down in his seat, preparing for the unusually silent flight.  
At one point he must've fallen asleep, because when England next opened his eyes, the sun was setting. England stretched as much as possible in his seat and looked over to America. He gasped softly at the sight that met his eyes. America was watching the clouds outside the window with his hand pressed lightly against the glass. England smiled softly, content to watch the young nation until he fell asleep with his forehead resting against the glass. The Englishman softly brushed some hair out of the American's eyes before taking his glasses off his face and putting them in his shirt pocket.  
When they landed, England woke America and grabbed their things before leading him off the plane. Once again they were lead quickly through the airport and England smiled happily when his car was brought to him by a valet. He quickly put the bags in the back and America in the passenger seat before sitting behind the steering wheel with a happy sigh. As he drove he hummed happily, glad to be home.  
"You know, your place isn't so bad, America,"England said, half to himself, glancing at America with a small smile."But there really is no place like home."  
England heard a small huff, but when he looked to where the sound had come from, America was as emotionless as ever and there was no one else in the car. Still, England couldn't help the small seed of hope that was planting itself in his heart. Maybe bringing him really was a good idea. Who knew, a change of scenery might help him. England hoped so.  
About another hour passed before they reached England's house. It was almost midnight and England was exhausted. He never really had liked flying the way America did. England took their bags inside, then guided the half asleep American to the guest bedroom down the hall. Once again he helped America change into sleeping clothes before getting him settled into bed. America shifted around for a minute before finally getting comfortable underneath the slightly musty sheets.  
"I'll get them changed in the morning, so wait until then, alright?"England told him.  
America closed his eyes in response and almost immediately drifted to sleep. England smiled and took the nations treasured glasses out of his shirt and placed them on the dresser. Clicking off the light, England leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to America's brow. When he straightened a bit he was surprised to find America looking up at him with a strange look in his eyes. England blushed darkly and stood up quickly.  
"R-right. Well.... G-goodnight, then."England stuttered and rushed out of the room, not seeing the sky blue eyes following his retreating form.  
England softly shut the door then leaned against it, taking deep breaths. He placed his hands on his cheeks, easily feeling the heat from his blush, and scowled. If that bloody git hadn't woken up... England thought, stomping up the stairs and to his room. He changed for bed and laid down, barely noticing the mustiness of his own sheets. Still, he couldn't keep the small smile of his face and he sighed softly, falling into a peaceful slumber.

 

The next morning, England was slightly confused as to why he was in his room. As his memories came to him, he shook his head before putting a robe on over his pajamas. When he got to the kitchen he was surprised to see America sitting down at the table. He must've made a small noise, because a pair of sky blue eyes were suddenly turned towards him. The previous night's kiss popped into England's head and he blushed furiously, scowling.   
Instead of giving the American his normal morning greeting, England walked to the stove, ignoring the eyes following his every move. He quickly gathered what he wanted for breakfast and began cooking, his hands working furiously. Still, he had nothing to occupy his mind and the feeling of his lips against America's soft skin kept creeping into his head. England shook his head, stubbornly banishing the thoughts from his head. He refused to think about it anymore.

 

America watched England working furiously at the stove. The darkness had been trying to creep up on him while he was alone, but the moment England came into the room it was like the sun rising and banishing the night. America couldn't help but follow his figure with his eyes, afraid that if he looked away that the darkness would swallow him whole. Still, America wasn't fighting to get back to normal. He was afraid that if he did, England would go back to the way he used to. Not quite enemies, but not quite friends.  
The memory of last night was also playing, but America let it. He couldn't deny the warmth that surged through him when he opened his eyes to find England kissing his forehead. The situation bothered America, though. It was too much like when he was one of England's colonies. It was a type of closeness, but not the type he wanted.  
For as long as he could remember, America had loved England. Sure, the type of love he felt for the Brit had changed, but it had always been there. It had hurt to rebel, but America had to do it. He knew there was no way to get England to stop seeing him as his precious little brother. Walking away from England had been the hardest thing he'd ever done and he was glad the rain had been there to hide his pain.  
For the longest time after, America had thought England hated him. When he got an awkwardly supportive letter from him during his civil war, America had thought it was some kind of cruel joke. Despite that, he had the letter in a small chest in his basement. Then, England came with Japan after September 11th and America decided that maybe their relationship wasn't as hopeless as he thought. Now, it looked like maybe England did care for him.  
Because of that, America could never tell the Englishman what had finally pushed him over the edge. He could never tell him that it was his own words at the last meeting that had broken him. He could still remember the ice cold look in those eyes as England yelled at him, telling him he was a useless nation and that he was surprised America hadn't been defeated by some other country. After that America had gone home in a blind rage and destroyed his kitchen before laying on his bed and letting the darkness engulf him.  
He had never expected England to be the one to find. He hadn't expected him to be the one to start caring about him. But here he was, sitting in England's house as said nation made him breakfast. America let a small smile on his face, but it quickly slipped away. Even if he was being cared for, he was still broken. The darkness was still there, hovering at the edges of his mind.


End file.
